


Reasonable Doubts

by mareebird



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angsty Loki, Gen, Loki - Freeform, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Self-Acceptance, The Statesman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mareebird/pseuds/mareebird
Summary: A short fic in which Loki wanders aboard the Statesman and ponders the nature of belonging.  Written by request to celebrate 200 Tumblr Followers.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	Reasonable Doubts

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in celebration of reaching 200 Followers on Tumblr ([mareebird](https://mareebird.tumblr.com/). I wrote two fics by request and this is one of them, requested by [larrness](https://larrness.tumblr.com/), who wanted something about Loki's time on The Statesman.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

It was either very late or very early. The darkness of space always transformed time into something nebulous. Loki only knew that he was exhausted. Call it a nap or a night’s rest, all he wanted was sleep, yet it eluded him like a child playing games.

He sat up in his bed.

Though of course, it was not his bed at all. It was more or less a military cot, not remotely comfortable, somehow both springy and worn down. The mattress had a nasty smell, too, a smell which Loki was loathe to attempt to identify. It may have been located in the Captain's Quarters, it may have even been the bed of the Grandmaster himself, but the era of the Statesman had come and gone and the ship had not seen care for a long time.

But it was not the quality of his bed that kept him awake.

Loki scrubbed his face with his hands. If sleep would not come then he would not waste his time. There was probably something that needed to be done, somewhere. Really, there were so many things to be done that it was almost scandalous that he should attempt to sleep at all. Thor certainly was not in bed, even though it was Thor who had essentially ordered him to get some sleep. They were supposed to be taking shifts. Brothers, attempting to rule a fallen kingdom: King Thor and Prince Loki.

He got out of bed and down on his knees, searching beneath the mattress for his boots

A month ago, it was  _ he _ who was King. Loki was doing his best not to dwell on that fact. It felt selfish, in a post-Ragnarok existence. And in truth, it had never been he on the Throne, not really. It may have been his mind guiding Asgard, his calm hand upon the steering mechanism, but it was not as though anyone suspected Odin had been quietly deposed. His subjects had no reason to question the status quo while everything was rolling so smoothly along. They saw a good ruler and allowed him to rule and everything was fine until Thor came back, assessed the situation in minutes, deemed it unworthy and threatened to smash in Loki’s face with that damned hammer!

All right, he was still bitter. It hurt like a bilgesnipe’s teeth.

But too many things had happened since then and Loki was not the same as he was before his journey into Sakaar. Neither was Thor, by all appearances. It was time to think about matters, about everything...quite differently.

Asgard did not need a King at present, it needed hope, and Loki felt oddly in tune with his people. He, too, needed hope. The path before him was unmapped. Reason seemed to have gone out the window, because reason dictated that it would have been wiser to thumb his nose as his brother and take the Statesman into deep space while he was still the only Captain aboard, and start over somewhere else.

But something had guided him to the Bifrost instead, something wholly unreasonable. How strange it was to feel so foolish and yet not able to convince himself to turn back.

Loki’s boots were on now. He stepped into the corridor, looking left and right down identical paths of doors, hissing pipes, and computer consoles. He was fairly certain Thor had turned right as he left the quarters, so Loki went right, as well. His brother would not be difficult to track down.

It must have been nighttime on Asgard. Most of the people he passed seemed to be asleep, or if they were not, their brows bore the same frustration that sleep eluded them as it had him. Still, it was almost peaceful, in the sense that all quiet places were inherently peaceful.

Except for the fact that everyone was strewn about and piled high. The ship’s cabins were still being cleared and cleaned. This was a Sakarrian vessel, after all. They could not very well pack battle-weary Asgardian families into rooms strewn with sexual devices and rotting food -- and sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference.

Heads turned as he passed, winding his way deeper into the ship. Loki wondered what they thought of him. They might offer a brief smile or a flash of surprise, or concern, but there was no guessing what was actually going on inside their heads. Did they fear him? Were they angry that he had concealed himself as Odin for so many years? Or had all his sins been forgiven the moment he arrived at the edge of the Bifrost?

Loki shivered.

Where had Thor gone? Heimdall was aboard, surely  _ he _ could see Loki conducting his search, trodding in circles. The Statesman was a maze. Loki turned down an empty corridor and his footsteps began to echo. The sounds rattled in his skull.

His brain was a maze, too. His thoughts ran ahead of him, searching for some semblance of reason. Why was he doing this? No one truly cared if he was here or not. Thor was right, he ought to have stayed on Sakaar. He may not have been a King there either, but he had the makings of a comfortable life.

Norns, had it come to this? Wondering if his brother had a point?

He stumbled into the Mess Hall.

There was no sign of Thor or his associates. The scattered few in the cavernous room looked up from their food, blinked a few times, and went back to eating. Hunger had a habit of placing everyone on the same level, the prince alongside the commoner, and Loki realized then that he could not recall the last time he had eaten.

Minutes later, he sat at the center of a long bench with a hot bowl of salty reconstituted noodles. It was almost the worst thing he had ever eaten. But good or bad, one thing the ship had plenty of was rations. There was enough food to sustain them for weeks, which either spoke of the gluttony of Sakaar or the fall of Asgard, or both.

He was half-way through his meal when a young man entered, alone. Loki noticed him as he tripped over a broken tile in the entryway. He was hardly out of boyhood, with long dark hair and haunted eyes. Loki’s heart gave a not so gentle squeeze at the sight of him, dirty and clearly famished, and vaguely resembling himself.

The lad went to one of the meal dispensaries and then, of all places, chose to sit at the same table Loki occupied. It was a long table, of course, and the boy was several meters away, but there were so many empty places, that to sit so close to a stranger, no less than the  _ Prince _ , was enough to make everyone in the Hall raise their eyes. Some appeared genuinely nervous as Loki took stock.

But in the lad’s defence, he seemed dazed. Loki stared, sincerely concerned, until he was noticed.

The lad went white and rose clumsily to his feet, and Loki remembered how intense his stare could be.

"Norns! Sorry, sir! Your Highness, I mean.  _ Royal  _ Highness. Sorry.”

Loki cut him off with a wave of his hand, gesturing that he ought to sit back down. “It’s fine. Finish your meal. You’re all right?"

He quickly plopped himself back down, with the air of following orders. “Yes, Your Royal Highness. I’m all right. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Loki nodded. The lad seemed whole, if a bit skittish. He turned back to his noodles.

He could feel the lad’s eyes linger on him.

Loki lifted a forkful to his lips. “Tastes terrible, doesn’t it? I didn’t know  _ salt  _ was a flavor.”

“It could be worse,” said the lad, as he took a bite of whatever he had thawed and pretended he had not been staring. “Not much worse, though.”

Loki chuckled.

For a while, they ate. It might have been the end of their interaction then and there, if not for the lad suddenly clearing his throat. “Thank you for rescuing us today.”

“Oh,” said Loki, a bit shocked. “You’re welcome, I suppose.” Really, what could one say?

“I was close to where you landed,” he went on. “I saw you come out of the smoke.”

Loki offered a cringe of a smile. “Yes, well, I do enjoy making an entrance whenever possible.”

“Where did you come from? I keep hearing that this ship is from a strange place. And there are people here who aren’t Asgardian.”

“Oh, you have no idea just how strange. Imagine the strangest place in the universe and then turn that world completely upside down.”

The lad thought for a moment. “Wouldn’t that make it normal again?”

Loki blinked. Clever child. He wagged his finger. “You have me there.”

The lad cracked a pleased grin, showing off dimples in his cheeks.

But Loki hardly noticed them. What he did see, as the light shifted over his broad smile, were the trails of tears. The dust of the battle was still caked upon his face, but not where crying had washed it away.

Well, shit….

Loki chewed his lip and thought.

He cleared his throat and beckoned that the lad ought to bring himself closer, keeping his smile firmly in place, as though he had not noticed anything amiss. The lad obeyed, picking up his awful-looking meal and carrying it to sit before his Prince.

“So we aren’t shouting at each other down the table,” said Loki.

“Oh.”

“Unless you would rather eat by yourself.”

The smile on the lad’s face flickered. “No, I… I don’t mind the company. If you don’t, that is.”

“I would not have called you over if I did.” Loki chewed and swallowed. “I was looking for my brother, but I couldn’t find him, believe it or not. He’s almost impossible to miss. I think he might be playing a game with me.”

The lad giggled. “I can’t picture him hiding anywhere.”

“Neither can I. And yet, I cannot find him. It’s very frustrating.” Loki paused. “And to be honest, I get worried when I can’t find him.”

“Worried?”

“Worried that he’s up to no good.” Loki grinned. “Though, will all due respect toward myself, people say the same of me.”

The lad pressed his lips together.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Not going to comment on that?”

He shook his head vigorously.

“Smart boy.”

The lad picked up his fork and gave his grayish food a few pokes before releasing a sigh. “You saved our lives, Your Royal Highness. That’s enough for me.”

Loki thought he might choke, the way his throat seized. He glanced down at his own bowl, knowing he would not be able to swallow anything until the sensation passed. “Yes, well… I regret that I was not able to save more of us. Our numbers are… They are much diminished.”

The lad nodded. He did not lift his eyes.

Loki scratched the stubble along his jaw. He had to ask. He had to know, though he did not understand just what it was that pushed him so. Reason dictated he ought not count even himself among the Asgradians, reason dictated he ought not risk caring.

But he could not help but care. Frankly, he had always been very bad at not caring.

“You lost someone, didn’t you?” asked Loki. 

“I...lost  _ everyone _ ,” the lad murmured, and for the first time, he sounded like the child that he was.

“I’m sorry,” said Loki. He swallowed. “I’m sorry, because I know what that is like.”

The lad raised his face and revealed the tears he had been concealing.

Loki took a breath and held it for a moment. “Life has a way of calling us to be stronger than we think is possible.”

The lad nodded.

“You’re here all alone?” asked Loki. 

“Yes.”

Loki nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Ivor.”

“Ivor,” he repeated. “Ivor, you may call me Loki.”

The lad scrubbed at his face, wiping away the tears and some of the dirt, but none of his surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. I may be the Prince, I may have even briefly been your King, but I’m not really any of those things anymore. I’m just Loki, now.”

“...I don’t know what to say.”

“All you have to do right this moment is eat your dinner,” he said, “Terrible as it is. And then you can come along and help me track down my brother.”

“All right,” said Ivor.

“And we’ll find people for you to room with. Others who have lost everyone, people who need friends. Our lives, all of them, are going to be completely different now, but that only means we’re all more or less the same.”

“T-Thank you, Your Royal-- I mean, Loki.”

“Eat up. The faster we eat, the sooner we’re done eating this.”

Ivor laughed.

And former His Royal Highness of Asgard, Loki, beyond reason, knew that he was exactly where he wanted to be, whether he belonged there or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to [larrness](https://larrness.tumblr.com/) for the request. I could write a novel about Loki on the Statesman, short as his time was. Actually, just try not to think about what happens next or it makes this fic too bittersweet.


End file.
